


Blue

by Yuzururu



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, I like writing platonic stuff but..., I'm trying to write some fluff too, Kinda, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, oh and there's also some, or something like that...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 08:58:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8280211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuzururu/pseuds/Yuzururu
Summary: Yuuri practices, and practices, but it's never enough. Coach Celestino thinks that maybe it's time for Yuuri to meet some of his competition.





	

On his early morning jog to the rink, the clouds started to gather.

Without breaking pace, Yuuri’s hand came up to swing the hood of his jacket over his head. Not a moment too soon; the raindrops started sleeting from the sky, falling to the concrete in fat droplets. The rain, while welcome in the muggy humidity of an early summer morning, tended to splatter his glasses and made it harder for him to see.

Turning the corner, Yuuri started on the steps towards the rink. Taking them two at a time made him pant; he allowed himself a little break in between, jogging on the spot to keep his muscles moving, eyeing the rising path before him. “Only a little more,” He huffed. “A little more, Yuuri.

Two at a time. His feet moved methodically, mechanically, and they carried him up and over the edge of the hill, until he was jogging again on flat, paved ground. Around him, the rain continued to pour.

Walking into the complex, Yuuri took a second to shake off the droplets that had gathered in the nooks and crannies of his jacket. A satisfying stream of water came trickling down the side of his arm; he flicked it unceremoniously and watched as the droplets arched gently through the air. Soon, it would be him, soaring gracefully through the air, landing on ice with the familiar snick of his blades scraping into the rink, his arms outstretched. Dancing.

Coach Celestino was waiting for him in the locker room, his pair of skates already set neatly by the bench.

Yuuri nodded a polite greeting. For a moment, homesickness flashed quickly through his mind. The image of Yuko, reaching for his skates, her cheery greeting, her slender fingers flicking into his as she wished him luck…

“Let’s get on the ice, Yuuri. No time to waste here.” Coach Celestino’s Japanese had a heavy accent to it, but Yuuri found that he didn’t mind too much. Celestino was always looking out for him, always concerned about his feelings, always pushing him to his limits but never forcing him into doing moves that he wasn’t ready to practice…

“Yes, Coach.” Yuuri tightened his laces.

::x::

Another jump...and another screw up.

Yuuri bit his lip as his landing wobbled. He’d missed that little markered notch in the ice by a few meters, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Coach Celestino frowning and tapping on his clipboard.

Something was off with him today. He had planned to practice one of his signature quads in the making, the quad loop. Somehow, though, he was off rhythm. It was in the little things; a wonky landing, a little skid of ice instead of a smooth glide, a little flail of his wrist in the wrong direction...it felt like his body was fighting him and he wasn’t sure if it was the pressure of the upcoming competition or the extra muffin that he’d snuck himself this morning back at the hotel...or both.

“Yuuri!” Coach Celestino waved him over. “What’s wrong, Yuuri?”

“Nothing, Coach.” Yuuri shrugged. It wasn’t a lie, honestly. He wasn’t quite sure himself. What was it that was screwing him up?

His mind felt as fogged as the clouds on his morning jog.

“Need to relax?” His coach prompted, and Yuuri shrugged again, skating in little, anxious circles.

“Hmm…”

Coach Celestino went back to his clipboard, scribbling something down. When Yuuri glanced curiously over, Celestino gave him a little encouraging shove, back towards the center of the ring, and ran him through another half-dozen drills.

“Clear your mind!” The long-haired man boomed from the edge of the rink.

Yuuri tried.

He lept into the air and twisted halfheartedly. He landed...yet another few meters from the marked spot.

He bit his lip, frowned, and continued trying.

::x::

The skies had cleared up the next day.

Yuuri cheated a little and slowed his jog. He’d decided to take the more scenic route this time, along the winding boardwalk that curved around the cusp of the city. The sun had yet to rise; the city was basked in the dying shadows of the lingering night. Over the horizon, it was just starting to turn a little bit pink. Yuuri had slowed to watch the sun break the horizon, it’s curve lifting gracefully over the dark reflection of the water. Yet another graceful arc, but to Yuuri’s uneven, raindrop leaps yesterday, the arc of the sun was one of Victor’s stunning performances. Steadfast, consistent...beautiful.

Yuuri increased his pace, feeling his breathing hitch. He matched his footfalls to the clink of his skates in his backpack. Beside him, the sun continued to rise, its arch growing higher.

::x::

“Again!”

Another quad lutz. There was a burn in his calves, a burn that was uncomfortable but not wholly unwelcome. He manages to land it this time, just barely, his skates hitting the mark in the ice with an ungainly thud and clip. Yuuri grins, despite himself. Celebrate the small victories.

Later, as he’s swiping the sweat off his face with a small towel, Coach Celestino wanders over.

“Are you homesick?”

An image of Yu-topia flashed into his mind. Its towering, graceful beams. The tap of his feet against tatami; the rustle of his fingers against his futon. All those posters of Victor on his bedroom wall...and the little yips of joy as Vicchan welcomed him home.

“No,” Yuuri lied. “I’m not.”

“Do you like Detroit?”

Yuuri thought of the greyness of the city, the industrial flatness of all the buildings around him. The long, wide roads leading nowhere. He tapped his skates nervously against the ice.

“Yes?” He said.

Coach Celestino arched an eyebrow. He must've heard the question mark at the end of Yuuri's reply. 

“How long has it been now?” Coach Celestino turned his face upwards in contemplation. “Two years?”

Yuuri nodded. He started tracing the ice again, his movements smooth and practiced. One small circle. And then a bigger circle. And then a bigger one. He could lose himself in these motions…

“Let’s go on a trip.” Coach Celestino said.

And Yuuri stumbled.

::x::

“Where are we going?”

He’d packed his bags, obediently. He’d gotten into the car, obediently. And it wasn’t until he was holding his boarding pass and his passport and he was about to step through the gate and into the belly of the plane when he realized that he really had no idea what was going on.

For all his questions, Coach Celestino simply slung one arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and laughed heartily.

“Somewhere fun.” He promised.

Yuuri glanced at his boarding pass and quaked.

He was flying to Russia.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is me getting back into the groove of writing. There's a point to this piece...I think...and there is kind of a twist planned? Erghh...


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